


Cold

by Cock_Zero



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cock_Zero/pseuds/Cock_Zero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank hides in what he thinks is an abandoned house in a dangerous neighborhood, but finds out a strange guy has been living there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> The big block of italics near the end is a flashback and is complete in Gerard's point of view.
> 
> Re-wrote the ending.

_What a way to spend my eighteenth birthday. Alone at midnight on the streets of Belleville._ Frank pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and placed one between his lips, lighting it and inhaling the toxic smoke. He looked around towards the park across the street, seeing two guys from his school. They were hiding under a tree in the shadows; he knew they were making out. “Fags,” he mumbled and continued walking, hitching his bag up on his shoulder. 

He was in a neighbourhood he wasn’t familiar with. Crushing his cigarette butt under the toe of his converse, he took in his surroundings. A lot of houses looked like shit. Windows broken. Doors boarded up. Graffiti scrawled over the outsides. At least two houses on the block had been burned down. Their outsides blackened around the window and door frames. _Shit! I shouldn’t be here. No matter how tough people think I am._ Frank kept his calm even as he heard what sounded like a car backfiring. 

Walking faster, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. There was shouting coming from down the road. Someone was running in his direction. No. Someone was being _chased_ in his direction. He froze, watching the guy run. He didn’t notice Frank, but Frank saw the guy behind him raising a gun. _SHIT! I gotta get out of here!_

Looking to his right, he ran behind the abandoned house, hiding in the shadows. The pounding of the guy’s footsteps were getting closer and Frank could hear him yelling, crying almost.

He ran past the house and the guy chasing him was close behind. He stopped in Frank’s line of sight and fired the gun. 

Frank slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle his scream and silently made his way to the back of the house. Praying to whatever God there might be that the guy didn’t see him. There was a sick, malicious laughter and the sound of heavy boots. Frank shivered. He looked around and saw one of the windows on the house was completely broken. The hole was just big enough for his small frame. He gently dropped his bag inside and crawled through, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

He waited until the only sound was the wind before unzipping his bag. Pulling his flashlight out and switching it on, he shined it around the room. He was in a bedroom. There was a mattress with a thin cover and a small pillow on it. _Someone lives here?_ He stared in disbelief as he stood up. 

Frank checked the whole house for any signs of life, but no one was there. It didn’t look like anyone had lived there for a few years by the amount of dust on the kitchen counters. Making his way back to the bedroom, Frank sat down on the mattress, pulling his bag to him and taking out a bottle of vodka.

“Happy birthday to me,” he sighed and took a gulp. The liquid burned its way down his throat. After taking a few more large gulps, he reached back into the bag, pulling out a small bag with three pre-made joints in it. Taking one out and grabbing his lighter, he ignited the tip of the paper and took a deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs until it burned before exhaling. The liquor and weed relaxed him to the point where he had fallen asleep.

The stink of pot awoke him. He rolled over, thinking maybe he had forgotten to put the joint out, and patted his hand on the floor. The clinking of glass on wood and the mattress descending beside him made his eyes shot open. He blinked a few times and spotted someone hovering over him.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?” he shouts.

The guy just takes a drag off the joint and stares. 

Frank couldn’t make out his features in the low light but he appeared to be around the same age, maybe a year or two older.

“Hi,” he said calmly, setting his ass down on Frank’s hips. “Mind if I join you?” 

Frank sits up and pushed him off to the left, making him hit the wall softly. 

“Is that a no?” he gave a chuckled softly.

Frank grabs his flashlight and shines it on him. “Who the fuck are you?” 

He had shoulder length black hair that clashed against his almost white skin. His eyes were a dull shade of light brown and had a dark red color around them, almost like he hadn’t slept in days. He was just watching Frank with no emotion on his face. 

“Tell me who you are before I smash your face in,” Frank glared and snatched the joint from the guy’s fingers. “You started one of my new joints? Fucker,” he huffed.

“I’m Gerard and that’s all you need to know. Plus you had two, so I thought you wouldn’t mind,” he shrugged, closing his eyes for a minute.

“Dude! That’s my fucking weed! I paid for it!” Frank took a drag off the joint, still glaring at Gerard.

“Sorry.” His voice was so soft Frank almost didn’t hear him. He was still watching Frank.

 _This guy is seriously creeping me out,_ Frank thought as he watched him lean against the wall, the vodka bottle in hand. 

Gerard raised it to his lips, still staring and took a gulp, making a face as he swallowed the liquid. “I’m creeping you out, aren’t I?” he laughed, making Frank jump slightly.

The smaller blushed, looking down at his lap. Gerard’s hand come into Frank’s view and took the joint from his fingers. “N-no. Um, not really,” Frank said and looked back up at Gerard as he exhaled the smoke through his mouth and nose.

“I can see it in your eyes. You’re scared of me,” he smiled and handed Frank the vodka. “You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you or anything.” 

Frank grasped the bottle and took a sip. They didn’t say anything for a long time, just watched each other. Frank had made himself comfortable on the mattress, lying down on his side. Gerard was still leaning against the wall.

Once the weed and liquor were gone, and Frank’s head was fuzzy, he started giggling softly.

Gerard looked at the smaller and moved closer. He placed an arm on either side of Frank, causing the younger to roll onto his back. 

“Uh... wha...” Frank stared up at him, eyes half lidded.

“Shh, don’t speak,” Gerard whispered, stroking Frank’s cheek and moving between his legs. He hovered over Frank, watching for a minute before leaning down. 

His eyes were half closed and Frank could feel his alcohol laced breath on his chin. Their lips brushed against each others. So soft it felt like a feather. 

Gerard was watching for a reaction but he didn’t move away. 

Frank slid his hands up to Gerard’s shoulders and gave a gentle tug. Their lips softly connected again, only lasting a few seconds before Gerard pulled away. Frank felt a little odd. He was straight and, although he didn’t hate gay people, he didn’t like them either. Maybe it was the vodka and weed fucking with his senses, but Gerard’s lips seemed to feel right. He lifted his head, pressing their lips together again, and closed his eyes. 

Gerard pushed his head down and Frank tangled his fingers in his hair, lips in sync.

Blood was rushing to Frank’s dick and he raised one knee to adjust himself. Gerard pushed himself closer, grinding his hips down into Frank’s, earning a quiet moan and slipping his tongue into Frank’s mouth. It was warm and soft and Frank wanted more. 

He ran his hands down Gerard’s back, feeling him shiver slightly and gripped the hem of his shirt. 

Gerard pushed himself up and unzipped the younger’s hoodie, pulling it off quickly before attacking his lips again. His hands slipped under Frank’s shirt and rubbed his sides. His fingers were like ice, sending a chill up Frank’s spine. Frank’s shirt was tugged over his head and Gerard started kissing down his jaw and neck. 

Frank yanked Gerard’s shirt off and flipped them over, sitting on his hips. He intertwined their fingers and held Gerard’s hands over his head, leaning down to kiss him again. Their tongues caressed one another, soft moans escaping from their throats. Frank slid his fingers down Gerard’s arms, stopping instantly and sitting up when they brushed over the deep valleys.

“No! Don’t!” he yelped and tried to hide his left arm but Frank grabbed it, holding it out in front of him. “Please! Don’t look!” He was fighting, pulling his arm back as Frank saw the three lines crossing his arm. 

Frank loosened his grip and Gerard yanked his arm back, holding it to his chest, and pushed him off. Frank saw tears streaming down his face as he grabbed his shirt and ran from the room into the house.

“F-fuck…” Frank sat on the bed, dumbfounded. _They were deep. Really deep._ “Shit! Where’d he go!” He jumped up, grabbing the flashlight, and ran through the house looking for Gerard. 

He called out for him, but received no answer. 

“Fuck!” He slammed his fist against the wall of the bedroom. With a sigh, he walked back to the bed and put his shirt and hoodie back on. A glance at his phone told him the time. _4:42 am? No way I’m walking back at this hour. I’ll wait til it’s about 6:00 before I go home._

Frank yawned and lied down on the mattress.

~

Frank woke up with a start, the bright sunlight burning his eyes and making him close them instantly.

“Fuck, what time is it?” He reached for his phone with one eye open. “7:46, shit. Better get home before Mom calls the cops.” 

Pushing himself up and sitting on the edge of the mattress, he rubbed his eyes. He put everything back in his bag, tossing the empty vodka bottle into the corner of the room. Smoothing his hair down, he stood up and wobbled slightly. “Damn, this hangover is gonna suck,” he winced. “I wonder where Gerard went last night.” After a quick look around the room, Frank shrugged and slipped out the window. 

He walked to the side of the house and looked around. _No one around. Perfect,_ he smiled and started his journey home. Now that it was light out, he knew which direction to head in. 

Frank made it home in about thirty minutes and quietly opened the back door. He cringed and held his breath when it gave a small creak. Listening for any sound of his mom, he snuck into the house and made his way upstairs. Opening the door to his bedroom, he almost made it inside when a voice made him jump.

“FRANK ANTHONY IERO JR!!! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?! I WAS WORRIED SICK! I THOUGHT YOU HAD BEEN KIDNAPPED OR KILLED!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mom! Give me a fucking heart attack, why don’t you?!” he scowled, gripping his chest as she walked over and slapped the back of his head. “What the fuck?!” he shouted and rubbed his head.

“You might be eighteen, but that does NOT mean you can use that language in my house!” she glared.

“You just did!” Frank exclaimed. He didn’t think she could be any scarier than she was, but he was wrong. The look she gave him was of the purest of evil. He cringed away from her into his room.

“Get your ass ready! You have school in fifteen minutes.” She stormed off down the stairs and he closed his door. “And don’t think I can’t smell the liquor and pot off your clothes!!”

“Fuck...” he grumbled, shuffling over to his closet and pulled out clean clothes. He walked to the bathroom attached to his room to change and brush his teeth. Examining himself in the mirror, he rubbed at his chin. “I need to shave.” 

Linda called out again, telling Frank to get downstairs. 

“Well, there goes that plan,” he sighed and pulled open the medicine cabinet, taking out the aspirin. He dry swallowed two of the white pills and then walked back to his room. Pulling his shoes on, he grabbed his school bag on his way out. 

Running downstairs, his mom handed him a napkin with two slices of buttered toast and pushed him out the door, locking it behind them.

“Get in the car, you’re already late,” she huffed, sliding into the car. Frank jogged to the passenger side and opened the door, sitting down. Linda didn’t say another word until they arrived at the school. “Don’t you get in trouble today! I’m tired of having to talk to your teachers or the principle. Now go.”

Frank hopped out of the car just as the tardy bell rang. His mom was already driving away, so he shrugged and casually made his way inside the building. _I’m already late, no sense in rushing._

~

“Mr. Iero!” Frank’s head shot off the desk, drool on his chin. “Would you like to solve the problem on the board? Or do you prefer sleeping in my class?” His math teacher, Mr. Grant, glared. The rest of the class was watching and snickering.

“Um... sleeping?” Frank mumbled, making the class laugh harder. He sat up straight when Mr. Grant walked down the aisle to his desk.

“Detention, Mr. Iero. Today, after school.” He turned his back and walked away. Frank scowled and flipped him the bird, laying his head down again. 

The bell ringing woke him again. He grabbed his math book and shoved it in his bag, then headed out the door with the rest of the class. 

Frank’s head was pounding from his hangover and he just wanted to sleep. He made his way to his locker and pressed his head against the cool metal. Turning the dial on the lock, it clicked opened and Frank grabbed his English book, shoving the math book in its place.

 _Another fucking hour of hell, then even more hell in the form of detention. Then more hell when I get home. When did Jersey become hell? Fuck this shit. I need a smoke,_ Frank groaned and walked to the closest door leading outside only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Going somewhere, Mr. Iero?”

 _Fuck. The principal. Mrs. Barton._ Frank smiled his sweetest smile at her, hoping he could get off the hook for whatever she thought he did. “Um, I was just going for a bit of fresh air before English,” he said innocently.

“You know, I hear you already got detention today. And you were tardy this morning?” she hummed. “It’s only Monday, Mr. Iero. How much more trouble are you going to get into this week?” she shook her head, leading him back into the hall. “I’d suggest you go straight to class. Mr. Urie! No public display of affection! You know the rules!” she snapped the last part at a guy younger than Frank. He was getting too close to his boyfriend. Just the thought made Frank sick to his stomach. Or was it the lunch he ate?

Mrs. Barton released his shoulder when they reached the English class. “Try to stay out of trouble, Mr. Iero.” She walked away and Frank flipped her the bird. He went straight to his seat and laid his head down, zoning out for the whole class.

When the final bell rang, Frank tried to make it out of the building before Mrs. Barton found him. 

He failed. 

“This way, Mr. Iero!” she waved her hand, summoning him. Not wanting to get on her bad side, which he had done before, Frank drug himself over to her. “In you get,” she held the door to the library open. 

Frank walked over to one of the tables and slouched in a chair. A few more people shuffled into the room and sat down at the tables. Once all the students were sitting, Mrs. Barton walked in herself and sat down in an armchair, opening a book.

“Psst-Frank. Whatcha in for?” 

Frank looked over at a guy from one of his classes. Zacky, he thinks that’s his name. “Sleeping in class, you?” he whispered back.

“Smoking behind the bleachers,” he snickered.

“No talking,” Mrs. Barton said over her book. Zacky and Frank exchanged glances and smiled. 

Frank let out a yawn and rested his head on his arms. Zacky was leaning back in his chair, one foot on the desk. Frank’s phone vibrated in his pocket, alerting him to a text. He glanced up at the principal and quietly pulled it out, opening the text.

_Detention again? You’re getting it when you get home!_

_Fuck. Mom found out,_ Frank sighed, scrunching his face up at the text and Zacky nudged his arm. Looking at him, Frank raised an eyebrow. “My mom’s pissed ‘cause I stayed out all night and now have I detention,” he whispered.

“Sounds like you’re in deep shit,” he snickered.

“Fuck you,” Frank smirked.

When Mrs. Barton released them, Frank went straight outside the school grounds and lit up a cigarette. “Got a spare?” Zacky came up behind him and slung his arm over Frank’s shoulder.

“I thought you had your own fucking smokes,” Frank laughed, pushing his arm off.

“Took ‘em when I was caught earlier,” he said and walked beside the smaller, smiling. 

Frank let out a long sigh and pulled a cigarette from his pack, handing it over. 

“Thanks man,” Zacky smiled, taking out his own lighter and lit it, inhaling deeply. “So, where did you hang out all night?”

Frank took a drag off his own cigarette before answering. “Dunno, some abandoned house. Or, I thought it was abandoned.”

“You thought? What did someone actually live there?” He watched Frank as they talked.

“I think so. Some guy around our age. I’m not sure if he lived there but it kinda looked like it. I mean, there was a mattress on the floor of one of the rooms,” Frank said, looking up at the greying sky.

“What was his name? Maybe I know him.”

Frank thought for a minute, racking his brain for the name. “Jared? I think that’s what he said.”

“Jared… hmm… I don’t know of a Jared our age,” Zacky took one last puff off his cigarette before crushing it under his foot. “Well, I go this way. See ya tomorrow Frank.” He slapped Frank’s back and went down a street to the right.

“Bye,” Frank waved, continuing on straight to his house. 

The second he opened the door, his mom yelled out, “Frank! You’re grounded ‘til the end of November! Now get cleaned up, dinner will be ready in an hour!” 

Frank sighed and made his way upstairs. Tossing his bag on the floor of his bedroom and toeing off his shoes, he headed to the bathroom to shower.

~

“Sleeping in class again, Frank? What am I going to do with you?” Linda sighed, the disappointment clear in her tired voice. “You know how hard it’s been for me since your dad died.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.” Frank kept his head down, looking at his food as he ate.

“Frank, why do you do these kinds of things? Staying out all night? Drinking? Smoking? Have I failed as a mother? Do you despise me or something?” Linda sighed.

“No,” he answered quietly, poking his dinner.

Linda sighed again, placing her hands on the table. “Just got to your room. I’ll deal with you in the morning.” 

Frank knew by her tone that the conversation was over. He quickly stood up, taking his plate to the kitchen and setting it on the counter, before going upstairs. He shut the door, turning the stereo on, Black Flag coming out of the speakers, and laid on his bed.

“Fuck…” he groaned, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. He heard his mom come upstairs about an hour later and go into her own room. 

Frank laid there for another thirty minutes before walking over to the window, grabbing up his bag and hopping out. He landed with a soft thud on the grass below and made his way to the closest store.

Opening the door, he walked inside and headed to the fridge in the back, pulling out a six pack of beer and walked to the counter. Frank pulled out his wallet, taking out his fake ID and some cash. 

He was thankful they never properly check ID at this store. He took the change and walked out of the store, putting the beer in his back pack. 

With a sigh, he headed in the direction of the abandoned house, lighting up a cigarette on the way. The sun had set by the time he made it to the neighborhood. 

_Now, which house was it? I think it was about halfway down the block,_ Frank frowned and looked at the houses, trying to figure out which one it was. Taking a step, he heard the clinking of metal under his shoe. A bullet shell. _Well, I guess it’s that one over there._

Frank headed across the street and around to the back of the house. There was the window on the left side with the hole. _Yep. This is the one._ He looked around, making sure no one was watching and leaned though, setting the bag down on the floor. He quickly hopped through and yelped, falling backwards on his ass.

The guy from last night was lying on the mattress. He didn’t seem to be breathing. 

Frank crawled over to him, examining him. “Hey, a-are you dead?” he whispered, praying he wouldn’t answer ‘yes’. He leaned closer to check if the guy was breathing and his eyes popped open. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!! You scared the shit out of me!” Frank shrieked and flew backwards, clutching at his chest. “I thought you were dead!” he laughed, body shaking. 

The guy pushed himself up and stared. 

“Um...” Frank scratched the back of his neck, “want a beer?” He pulled his bag over and reached in it.

“Sure,” the guy said simply. “And since you seem to have forgotten my name, it’s Gerard.” He grabbed the beer Frank held out and opened the can as Frank opened his own beer and took a gulp. “So, what brings you to my humble abode tonight?” Gerard seemed almost bored when he spoke.

“Eh, just needed to get out for a while. My mom’s pissed at me and thinks I’m in my room,” Frank chuckled. He grabbed his flashlight out of the bag and turned it on, brightening the room slightly. An awkward silence fell as they drank their beers. Frank looked around the room from his spot on the floor. “So… um… how long you’ve been living here?” 

Gerard tensed. 

“Shit. Sorry. Forget I asked.” He dug through his bag again, pulling out his last joint. “Want some?” 

Gerard nodded and Frank placed it between his lips, grabbing his lighter and lighting it. He took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs and handed the joint to Gerard. He didn’t talk much but Frank enjoyed his company. 

Frank moved over to the bed and sat next to Gerard, their backs against the wall. They had drunk all the beers and were smoking Frank’s cigarettes at the moment. 

“Why is your mom mad at you?” Gerard suddenly asked.

“Um, ‘cause I didn’t get home ‘til after 8:00 am yesterday and then I got detention at school for sleeping,” he shrugged and took a drag off his cigarette before stubbing it out on the floor. He leaned over and rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder. 

Gerard tensed a bit but relaxed quickly and rested his cheek on Frank’s hair. 

Frank’s eye started to droop and he yawned loudly.

“Frank?” Gerard whispered.

“Mmn…?” he hummed, closing his eyes and curling up to Gerard.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“Mmn...” 

Gerard smiled and slipped his arm around Frank’s waist as he drifted off to sleep.

~

Frank slowly came back to consciousness and groaned at the pain in his shoulder. His right arm was behind his back, turned at an uncomfortable angle and his left was lying on something firm and covered in cotton. His neck twinged from resting on the same thing as his arm. 

He cracked one eye open and pushed himself up, turning his head to crack his neck. He looked down and saw he had been lying on Gerard’s chest. Frank didn’t remember falling asleep or lying down on the mattress. Gerard was still fast asleep as he quietly reached over for his phone to check the time.

 _3:18 AM? Shit! I gotta get home before mom notices._

Frank carefully moved down the mattress and Gerard rolled over, mumbling softly in his sleep. He saw the sleeve of Gerard’s shirt bunch up on his left forearm and the skin was crudely bandaged. _I wonder why he did it,_ he thought sadly, watching him sleep for a few minutes. 

He crawled off the bed and quietly packed his bag up, setting it on the ground outside the window. Crouching down at the bed, he brushed the hair off Gerard’s forehead. _He’s pretty cute. Hmm… I’d definitely turn gay for him._ He quickly placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

Gerard didn’t move. 

Frank stood back up and crawled out the window, picking up his bag and made his way home.

~

All the lights were off when he got to his house and his window was still open. Pulling the bag straps over both shoulders, Frank climbed the tree closest to the window.

He’d been sneaking in and out of his window for the past 3 years, so it was easy enough for him to get through his window silently. He quietly pushed the window shut and locked it, closing the curtains. 

Setting his bag down, Frank stripped down to his boxers and searched through the dresser for a pair of pajama pants, finding a pair of light grey ones. He slipped them on and crawled into bed, turning the lamp off and rolling over, falling back asleep.

~

_buzzt buzzt buzzt buz-_

Frank slapped the alarm clock, hitting the snooze button. Sitting up in bed, he stretched and yawned loudly. He pushed back the covers and set his feet on the floor.

“Frank? Are you getting up?” his mom asked through the door.

“Yeah,” he groaned and stood up, stretching again.

“Hurry up, your breakfast is getting cold,” she said and went downstairs.

Frank walked into his bathroom to pee and wash his face. 

Leaving the bathroom, he opened his dresser and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a long sleeve _The Smiths_ shirt. After getting dressed and pulling his converse on, Frank headed downstairs and quickly ate his breakfast. 

“You’d better not get into trouble today, Frank. I swear to fucking God, I will kick your ass.”

“What happened to ‘don’t say the lord’s name in vain’?” Frank muttered, earning a smack to his head. “Ow! Mom!” he glared.

“Don’t get smart with me, Frank! You’re eighteen. I can easily kick your ass out of my house.” The look she gave told him she wasn’t kidding.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and finished his breakfast. He washed his plate while Linda smoked a cigarette then headed back upstairs to brush his teeth. 

Frank snatched his school bag up when his mom called up to him and ran out the door to her car. Ten minutes later, she pulled up in front of the school and stopped the car.

“Oh and Frank?” she said. Frank turned to look at her, giving her his full attention attention. “Remember, you’re grounded for a month. No going out, no computer, no phone, no guitar. You’re to come straight home after school. I _will_ be calling the house to make sure you’re there.”

He sighed, opening the door, “Fine.” He stepped out, grabbing his bag, and closed the door.

~

“Dude. That fuckin’ sucks! A whole month? How are you gonna survive?”

Frank was sitting with Zacky during lunch. “I don’t know. It’ll be tough but I’ll find a way,” he smirked.

“I don’t think I could go a whole month of not being able to playing my guitar,” Zacky laughed.

“Hehe yeah.” Frank finished his lunch and threw the trash away.

“Ya know, if you want, I can watch over your guitar during the month,” Zacky offered, smiling.

Frank thought about it for a minute. “Nah. My mom will notice it’s gone and ask me about it and I’d probably get grounded even longer.” They started walking down the hallway to their lockers.

“Well, just thought I’d offer.” Zacky grabbed his book out and headed off to class. 

Frank pulled his history book out and went in the other direction, walking to the classroom. He dozed off a few times in class, unnoticed by his teachers, which he was thankful for.

~

Tossing his bag over his shoulder, Frank headed for the front doors with the rest of the school. Zacky ran up to him as he made his way off school grounds.

“Hey man,” he smiled, a lit cigarette between his lips. 

Frank reached for his own pack, tapping one out and lighting it before responding. “Hey,” he said, blowing out the smoke while they walked down the sidewalk. After a few moments of silence, Frank asked a question that had been burning him up on the inside. “Are you gay?” _Smooth, Frank. Real smooth._

Zacky stared at him in mild shock. He took a final drag off his cigarette before answering. “Yeah. Is there a problem with that?” he said, giving Frank a cold look and dropped the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.

“No,” Frank looked away, blushing. “Have you had sex yet? W-with a guy, I mean.” 

“Why do you want to know all of the sudden? I thought you were straight,” Zacky asked, stopping to watch Frank for a minute. “Wait a minute… Don’t tell me you’re a virgin!” Frank flinched and stared at him, wide eyed. “Holy fuck! You are!” Zacky shouted and covered his smile with his hand.

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t want the whole fucking neighbourhood to know!” Frank looked around frantically, making sure no one had heard. There wasn’t a soul on the street.

“Wow, you’re serious? Didn’t you have a girlfriend last year?” They had started walking again.

Frank nodded. “Yeah, but I wasn’t into her. I mean, she was hot and all, but, I don’t know,” he finished lamely, shrugging his shoulders.

“Hey, man. It’s ok.” He slung his arm over Frank’s shoulder, pulling him into a one armed hug. “You’re just waiting for that someone special, am I right?” 

Frank nodded again and looked in his eyes, smiling. 

“But, uh… it can’t be me. I’m spoken for,” he laughed and took his arm off Frank’s shoulder.

“Dude, sick. I didn’t say I wanted to fuck you,” Frank laughed and shoved him slightly. “I was just wondering what its like,” he blushed and looked away from him.

“How ‘bout I come to your place and tell you all about it then. I’ll even give you all the gory details,” Zacky giggled, wrapping his arm around his friend’s waist.

“Only if my mom doesn’t find out. I’d prefer to stay on her good side so I don’t get kicked out. Oh, and you can’t tell _anyone_ about this. I mean it.” 

“Okay, okay. My lips are sealed,” he snickered, mimicking zipping his lips. 

They continued down the street, heading for Frank’s house. He unlocked the door and the phone rang, just as they walked in. Frank held his finger to his lips, telling Zacky not to make a sound and answered. “Hello?”

_”Frank. Did you just get home?”_

“Yeah, mom. I was about to get a snack then do my homework,” he said, pointing to Zacky then to the stairs. The other nodded and headed up the stairs.

_”Okay, dear. Remember, no guitar, no computer and no phone. I’ll be home around five.”_

“Okay. See ya then. Bye.” Frank hung up the phone and went upstairs, leading Zacky to his room.

“Nice,” he smiled, looking at the posters on the walls before sitting on Frank’s bed. “So, what exactly did you want to know?” 

Frank leaned against the headboard and pulled his knees up, thinking for a minute. “H-how much does it hurt?” He felt a blush creep up his cheeks again. 

“Well, that depends,” Zacky stated and Frank looked up.

“Depends on what?” he asked, getting a raised eyebrow.

“Depends on if you’re on top or bottom,” he chuckled.

“Oh right.” Frank blushed more, feeling stupid.

Zacky rubbed his arm and continued, “Both can be kinda uncomfortable, especially if it’s your fist time. Although, bottom can be painful if you’re not completely relaxed. Oh man, I remember my first time,” he laughed and shook his head.

~

When Linda got home, she took Frank’s cell phone, unhooked the monitor from his computer and locked it and his guitar in the hall closet. 

Frank was fuming, but he kept it to himself. 

The next four weeks went by at a snail’s pace. He and Zacky were becoming closer friends. Zacky mostly just kept bugging Frank about who he liked during school. 

Frank told him there was no one and that he was just keeping his options open. 

He made plans on sneaking out once his grounding was up, to see Gerard again, but he wasn’t going to tell Zacky. He’d probably insist on coming along.

~

Frank heard his mom going to bed and waited another hour before opening the window. He pulled on his coat and shoes and grabbed his bag up, hopping out the window and landing with a soft thud. 

Hurrying to the shop he always frequents, he bought a six pack of beer and a pack of cigarettes. He flashed his ID and paid before leaving the store and walking to where Gerard ‘lived’. 

He snuck in through the back window, as usual, and pulled out his flashlight. Gerard was nowhere to be seen.

“Gerard?” he called only to hear silence. Dropping his bag, Frank left the bedroom and looked around the house for any trace of him. “Gerard? Are you here?” He kept looking until he felt a cold wind behind him. It sent chills down his spine, even through his coat. 

“Looking for someone?” a cold voice asked.

Frank jumped forward, his shin crashing into an upturned nightstand, and yelled. “SON OF A FUCKING COCK SUCKER!!! GERARD!! You scared the shit out of me! Where were you?” He turned around and glared at the young man. 

Gerard was wearing the same clothes as always. Black shirt, black jeans, black shoes. He didn’t seem fazed by the outburst. Frank thought he looked exhausted.

“I’ve been here the whole time. It’s not my fault if you suck at noticing things,” he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. His arm was still wrapped up. “Stop staring at me. It’s giving me the creeps.” He didn’t shout but Frank still jumped slightly.

“Oh, uh. Sorry,” Frank frowned, running his fingers though his hair. The room was silent for a few minutes, both boys just standing there, not looking at each other. “Um… I brought beer,” Frank offered, looking at Gerard. 

Gerard smiled slightly and Frank followed him into his ‘bedroom’. They sat on the mattress and Frank pulled his bag over, opening it and grabbing out the cans. He handed one to Gerard and cracked the tab on his own, taking a gulp. Neither of them talked as they finished their first cans. 

Frank rubbed his shin where he hit it and opened his mouth to speak. He closed it seconds later when nothing came out and sighed. Handing Gerard another beer and grabbing one for himself, he finally spoke. “Sorry I haven’t been over in a while. I was grounded and my mom threatened to kick me out if I fucked up again.”

Gerard shrugged his shoulders, “It’s fine. I’m used to being alone.” He sipped his beer and moved back on the bed to lean against the wall. Frank mimicked his moves and sat next to him. Their fingers brushed when he was getting comfortable and Frank shivered. They were as cold as ice.

“Dude. Do you want a pair of gloves? Your hands are freezing,” he asked, setting his beer down and reaching into his bag for his spare fingerless gloves.

“No, it’s ok. I’m fine,” Gerard said as Frank pulled out the skeleton print gloves and turned to him.

“I insist. Besides, this is just a spare pair I keep with me. It’s cool. Now, hold your hand up.” 

Gerard looked at him for a second before lifting his right hand. Frank slipped the glove on and Gerard switched hands so he could put the second one on too. “There, now your fingers won’t fall off,” Frank smiled. 

Gerard just stared at his hands with almost a sad face. 

Frank thought he was about to cry. “Hey? Are you alright?” he asked, placing a hand on Gerard’s shoulder and the other on his jaw, lifting his head. Tears were forming in his eyes. Suddenly, he lunged for the smaller and wrapped his arms around Frank’s waist.

“Thank you so much, Frank. No one has ever been this nice to me,” he cried, face buried in Frank’s chest. Frank was stunned and awkwardly rubbed his back.

“Um… you’re welcome?” he said. He rubbed Gerard’s back until he stopped crying and pulled away. He blushed and apologized. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” Frank smiled, blushing slightly as he sipped his beer for a few minutes. He crushed the can when it was empty. “So, were you serious about no one’s ever been nice to you?” he asked, glancing at Gerard, seeing him frown and nod. “N-not even your family?” 

The older hunched his shoulders over and a few tears slipped from his eyes. 

“Is that why you tried to kill yourself?” Frank whispered. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

There was a few moments of silence before Gerard spoke in a small voice. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” 

Frank looked at him. “I promise,” he said. 

Gerard took a deep breath before he spoke again. “As you’ve probably guessed by now, I’m gay. I realized I was when I was fifteen. My younger brother accepted it, saying it didn’t change how he felt about me, but my parents were less than thrilled. They scoffed at me when I told them, saying it was ‘just a phase’ and I would ‘grow out of it’,” he gave a hollow laugh. “When I didn’t ‘grow out of it’, they got pissed. Started saying I was worthless and no one would ever love me. My brother did everything he could to help me, but I slipped into a severe depression. When I was nineteen, I decided enough was enough. My parents were degrading me again, calling me names and such, so I grabbed one of our kitchen knives and held it to my wrist. I yelled at them, telling them I would kill myself if they didn’t stop. My mom just laughed and… and told me to do it. I-I don’t remember much after that.” He stopped, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Frank was in shock and he did the only thing he could think of. He pulled Gerard into his arms and hugged him tightly. “How could someone say that to their own child? Gerard, I’m so sorry.” He held onto Gerard’s shaking body for what seemed like hours, shushing his when he cried and petting his hair. 

Eventually, Gerard had stopped crying and his breathing evened out. He had fallen asleep. 

Carefully, Frank moved their bodies and lied both of them down on the mattress, Gerard’s head on his shoulder. He pushed the hair off Gerard’s face and kissed his forehead. Gerard mumbled in his sleep and Frank heard him say ‘I like you, Frank’. 

“I like you too, Gerard,” he whispered and soon drifted off to sleep, holding Gerard close.

~

The cold December sun was streaming through the back window, waking Frank up. He rubbed his eyes, feeling a weight on his body. Gerard was still asleep on his shoulder. He smiled and reached for his phone, checking the time. “Shit! Mom’s gonna fucking kill me.” 

Gerard stirred next to him and pushed himself up. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Wha time iz et?” he asked, stretching as Frank stood up, zipping his bag up and shoving his phone in his pocket.

“It’s after ten! Fuck, I can practically hear my mom yelling!” Frank rushed to the window but was stopped when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his middle. Gerard pressed himself up against Frank’s back and hugged him. He could feel every curve of Gerard’s body against him. He smiled at the feeling.

“Come back soon?” Gerard’s lips brushed his ear when he spoke. 

Frank turned in his arms and hugged him around his neck. “As soon as I can,” he smiled and Gerard kissed his forehead. “But I really have to go now.” He set his bag down outside and climbed through the window. “I’ll try to be back tonight.” 

Gerard smiled at him and Frank walked around to the front of the house, looking around to make sure outside. 

~

Linda was sitting at the kitchen table when he opened the door. Frank knew there was no use in trying to sneak through the window. She already knew he wasn’t there. He walked to the kitchen door and cleared his throat.

“H-hey Mom,” he said, his head down. 

Linda quickly stood from her chair and enveloped her son in a hug. “Frankie! I didn’t know where you were! I called all over! I even called the police but they said you had to be missing for forty eight hours before I could report it! I was so worried! Please don’t do that again!” she cried. 

Frank was shocked. He thought for sure she would be pissed. He didn’t know how to react to this. “Um… Mom.” 

She pulled back and cupped his face, examining him. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“No, Mom. I’m fine. I, uh… I have something I need to tell you. Please don’t get mad or hate me,” he said, fidgeting.

“Oh baby, I could never hate you,” she said, holding him out at arm’s length. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, “Mom. I’m gay.” He watched for a reaction, but she just smiled.

“And? Did you meet someone? Is he your boyfriend? When can I meet him?”

“Uh… wow. I wasn’t expecting that,” he laughed nervously. “Um, yes, no and I don’t know?”

“Well, what’s his name, at least? Maybe I know his parents,” she said and walked to the kitchen, putting two slices of bread in the toaster and pulling a pan out of the cabinet.

“His name is Gerard. I met hi-“ The pan fell to the floor and Linda turned to Frank with shock in her eyes.

“Di-did you say Gerard? As in Gerard Way? About five foot eight, shoulder length black hair, always wearing black clothes?”

“Y-yes? Do you know him?” The look she had in her eyes was scaring him. She sat down at the table. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

“You might wanna take a seat, son. There’s something I need to tell you about Gerard.”

Frank gulped and slowly sat down, watching her closely.

~

Gerard’s eyes followed Frank as he rounded the back corner of the house. He quickly ran to the front and peeked through the boarded up windows to watch the younger walk down the sidewalk.

 _He likes me? He actually likes me?_ He slumped down against the wall and hugged his chest. _Maybe… maybe… I wonder if he’ll be my boyfriend?_ he smiled to himself, happy for the first time in years. _Boyfriend. I like the sound of that._

The sound of a car door shutting broke his train of thought. He peered out through the cracks in the boards and saw a silver car parked in the driveway. The owner was walking up to the porch. Gerard squinted. He looked so familiar, but older. _It can’t be._ The guy stopped and looked at the door and windows before sighing and turning around, walking away. Gerard watched as he turned at the side of the house. He jumped up and raced to the back room, hiding next to the window, listening. 

An annoyed sigh came through the broken window followed by some grumbling. “Fucking punks.” Two hands were placed on the broken windowsill and the person’s face looked through, taking everything in. He stopped and his eyes widened in shock when he spotted Gerard. “Ge-gerard?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Gerard shuffled his feet and looked down. “H-hey Mikey,” he said, biting his nails when Mikey climbed in the window. 

Mikey watched him for a few minutes, the look on his face showing nothing but shock. 

“M-mikey, you’re scaring me! Stop staring!” Gerard said, crossing his arms and plopping down on the mattress.

“But… Gerard… y-you-why are you here? In our old house? Have you been here this whole time?” Mikey asked, watching his brother closely, like he thought Gerard was going to vanish or something. 

Gerard opened my mouth to answer, but stopped. He stared up at his brother, brow furrowed. “I-I don’t know. Wait… Old house? But you guys moved out only a few months ago.” 

Concern was painted on Mikey’s face as he crouched down to Gerard’s level and took a deep breath, “Gee, it’s been over three years now.”

Gerard thought his heart stopped. “Three… three years? You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking!” he exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing Mikey’s jacket, tears welling up in his eyes. Mikey only shook his head sadly.

“Don’t you remember what happened?”

_I had just gotten home from college. Setting my bag down on my bed, I pulled out a sketch book and some pencils and set to work on a bit of art homework. I could hear my parents arguing about me again. I sighed and turned some music on to try and drown them out. Not long after, I felt my bed sink down on one side. I looked up to see my brother, Mikey, sitting next to me, looking kind of scared. He might be sixteen, but he’s still a child at heart._

_“They’re doing it again,” he whispered._

_“I know. Just ignore them. It’s me they’re arguing about anyway, not you. Don’t worry.” I placed my pencil to the paper again and started shading the image, looking at a photograph for reference._

_“Who are you drawing?”_

_I studied the picture. “Huh? Oh, just some kid I saw one day. He looked like a good model, so I snapped his picture when he turned away,” I chuckled slightly. “Sounds kinda stalker-ish, doesn’t it?”_

_“Just a little,” he laughed._

_We listened to our parent’s fighting about me for another hour before it got quiet._

_“I think they’re finally done for the night. Have you eaten yet?” I put my book down and slid off my bed. Mikey shook his head ‘no’ so I went out to fix us some dinner. “Stay here. I don’t want you getting involved if they start again.” I headed to my door as Mikey pulled my sketchbook towards him._

_Walking quietly into the kitchen, I thought about what to make Mikey and me for dinner. I settled on tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich each. I hadn’t even pulled out a pot before my mom walked into the kitchen._

_“Oh look. The good for nothing emerged from its room.” I clenched my teeth, holding my rage in, and went about finding a pot for our soup. “You know you’re worthless. That’s why you won’t retort. Fucking queer,” she spat out at me when I stood up, placing the pot on the stove and looking for a can of soup. “You’d better not turn your brother into a fag. He’s actually going to make something of himself. Unlike you with your art. Art isn’t a fucking career! It’s not even a hobby! It’s fucking useless. Just like you!”_

_“SHUT UP!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!! You’re such a fucking hateful bitch! If it wasn’t for Mikey, I would have killed myself long ago!!” Venom laced my words and tears stained my cheeks. She just sneered at me._

_“Then why don’t you? He’d be better off without you anyway.” She spoke in a low voice._

_Anger filled my head and I couldn’t think straight. I reached over for the knife block and knocked it over on to the counter top, the blades spilling out of it. I picked up the sharpest knife and held it to my wrist._

_“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?!?” Tears streamed down my face as I stood in the kitchen._

_“Do it,” she smirked, thinking I didn’t have the guts. I gripped the handle tighter as the blade pressed into my skin._

_“I fucking will,” I gritted out and quickly pulled the knife across my wrist. One. Two. Three times. The blood flowed freely. Her face fell in shock. My head was getting fuzzy. Mikey ran into the room, snatching the knife from my hand and tossing it away. I heard someone on the phone calling for an ambulance._

_“D-don’t leave me-me-e!” Mikey sobbed, clinging to me. My mom just stood there, watching. Her eyes wide._

_“I’m sorry…” I whispered. My words were slurred and my vision was on the brink of vanishing._

_“WHERE’S THE AMBULANCE??” I vaguely heard my dad’s voice yell. I felt a towel being wrapped around my arm as I slipped into blackness._

“The next thing I remember is waking up here. Everyone was gone. No note. Nothing.”

“Gerard…” Mikey sighed.

“GERARD!” Frank jumped through the window and ran over to him, tears covering his pink cheeks. He grabbed Gerard’s shirt, trying to catch his breath. “It’s not true, is it?! Tell me it’s not fucking true! You can’t be! You just can’t!” He cried, clinging to the older boy’s shirt. Gerard didn’t know what to say.

~

“Frank. I’m not sure how to tell you this but…” Linda grabbed her son’s hands, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “Gerard Way died just over three years ago.” 

Frank’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Wh-what? If this is a joke, it’s a fucking disgusting one,” he glared, yanking his hands from hers and standing up, knocking his chair over in the process. “Y’know, if you don’t like the idea of me liking guys, you can just fucking say it! You don’t have to make up a sick fucking story!” He stormed to the front door.

“It’s not a lie, Frank!” 

He stopped, hand on the doorknob. 

“I knew his mother, Donna. She was a complete and utter homophobe who told her oldest son to kill himself. Her youngest son moved out shortly after his death. Once I learned that, I vowed to let you live how you wanted and love who ever you wanted,” she said.

Frank could feel the tears forming in his eyes. She had to be lying. He didn’t want to believe her.

“Gerard was a sweet young man who had a full life ahead of him. I would have been happy for you both if you had started dating, but you never got the chance to meet him.” 

He looked back at his mom, just barely holding his tears in. She looked so distraught, but she couldn’t be telling the truth. Gerard had to be alive. Frank touched him. He kissed him. You can’t kiss a ghost.

“He can’t be dead. He just can’t,” he whispered, tears falling down his cheeks, and ran out the door. 

Linda was yelling at him to come back, but he ignored her and ran full speed to Gerard’s house. 

It took him less than ten minutes to reach it. He didn’t even notice the car in the driveway, he just ran around the house. Quickly climbing through the window, he yelled out, “GERARD!” He saw the older and ran over to him, grabbing his shirt and crying into the soft cotton. “It’s not true, is it?! Tell me it’s not true! You can’t be! You just can’t!” He choked out between sobs. 

Gerard cautiously wrapped his arms around Frank’s shoulders. “I… I don’t know… Mikey? What’s going on?” 

Gerard’s body was shaking as Frank clung to his waist. A voice Frank never heard before spoke, probably this ‘Mikey’ Gerard just mentioned.

“Gerard. You died three years ago. I was at the funeral. I moved out two weeks later after telling Mom I was gay. I’ve been living with my friend Pete since then.” Mikey’s voice was almost monotone save for a few shakes. Gerard’s knees buckled and he slid down to the ground, Frank’s arms still around his waist. He kept his arms around Frank’s shoulders, holding him tightly. 

Frank was trying to calm himself, only resulting in hiccupping and crying more.

“Bu-but… if-if I’m de-dead…. I-I c-can’t be-e dead. I have a-a body-y. I can’t be d-dead. I ju-ust can’t…” Gerard mumbled, his breath hitting the back of Frank’s neck. 

The smaller shivered. It was ice cold. He remembered Gerard’s skin was also ice cold. And- 

_And the cuts weren’t bleeding like they should have been!_ Frank pulled away from Gerard quickly and stared at him. His skin was as pale as snow. The edges of his body were slightly blurred. He wasn’t sure if that was from tears or not. Gerard just stared at Frank, fear painted on his face.

“F-frankie…?” He reached out for Frank’s face, fingertips brushing his cheek. 

Frank flinched from the cold. 

Tears were falling down Gerard’s full cheeks as Mikey crouched down next to them.

“Gerard, I think it’s time for you to go now,” he said softly, resting his hand gently on Gerard’s shoulder, a few tears escaping. Gerard’s body seemed to fade before their eyes.

“No… no, no, no, no. NOOOO!!! Gerard! Don’t leave me!” Frank cried and lunged at him but only managed to hit the ground. He flipped over to see he had fallen straight through him. 

Gerard was looking back at him, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry Frank.” Frank shook his head. “I’m sorry. You’ll find someone who loves you,” he said, his body getting fainter by the second.

“But… I… I…” He disappeared before Frank could finish his sentence. The gloves he gave Gerard fell to the ground near his knees. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Mikey said softly. He sat next to Frank for a few minutes while the younger cried silently. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.” He stood up and held his hand out for Frank to grab. 

Frank picked up the gloves from the floor and grabbed Mikey’s hand. “Take me to his grave first?” 

Mikey nodded. 

They left through the window and headed around the front of the house to the waiting car. Mikey opened the passenger door and Frank slid inside, buckling the seatbelt. Mikey got into the driver’s seat and buckled up before starting the car. Neither of them spoke the entire trip. 

He stopped just outside a small cemetery and put the car in park. They both stepped out of the car and Frank looked around. _There has to be over two hundred graves. Which one is his?_

As if Mikey could read his thoughts, he pointed down an aisle. “Straight down there, seventeenth headstone from us.” 

Frank looked at him and Mikey smiled slightly. With the gloves in hand, he started walking, counting the headstones as he went.

He finally found the right headstone. It read _Gerard Arthur Way_ with his birth and death dates underneath. Frank fell to his knees in front of it, tears streaming down his face again.

“Why? Why did you listen to her? Why didn’t I know you before this? I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Even if I find someone who loves me, I’ll always remember you.” He placed the gloves on the ground just at the headstone and stood up, wiping his eyes. “Goodbye Gerard,” he sniffled before going back to Mikey’s car. 

“Hey, uh,” Mikey said. “I-I’ve had this in the glove compartment since-since it happened,” he held out a folded sheet of paper. Frank took it, curiosity getting the best of him. “It was the last thing Gerard drew. He said it was some kid he saw that had nice model-like features so he snapped a picture to draw.”

Frank nodded, unfolding the paper and looking at the drawing.

“I don’t have the photo anymore, our parents threw away most of Gerard’s stuff, but I managed to save this,” Mikey said. “I think you should have it, so you can have something to remember him by.”

Frank choked back a sob when he realized who the picture was of.

It was a fourteen year old version of himself.

“Thank you, Mikey.”

The taller smiled and they both climbed back in the car. Mikey started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. 

“So, you’re Gerard’s brother? Older or younger?” Frank asked.

“Younger.” Mikey said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Were you his boyfriend, um, in a sense?”

“No, I’m just the guy who was too late.”


End file.
